Trust
by potterbite
Summary: My headcanon for 3x12, when Emma, Killian and Henry is in New York, and who the mystery guy is. Spoilers from various pictures released.


**A/N: Read an anonymous suggestion to a tumblr I follow, and this idea grew in my head. So I "stole" the idea and wrote a fic about it. The idea read: "What if Killy gets arrested by the NYPD for Emma, like she does something for their mission but Killian takes the blame for her, and then it just shows her even more Killian isn't like Neal." Hope you guys enjoy this! :)**

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Everyone in their right mind had to know pirates were bloody idiots, and someone should have written a handbook on how to deal with them, because it was like trying to scream at a rock to jump and actually expect it to do so.

At least, that was what Emma thought to herself when she had tried – and failed – to make Hook skip the big leather jacket that seemed to draw much attention to them. Even in New York, it wasn't everyday people got to see a man like him walking down the street – no less with an ordinary woman and a kid, both acting as if everything were normal.

But alas, he had stood his ground, only faltering slightly on his strong conviction that everyone had a right to dress as they wished when Emma had done the puppy eyes at him.

Sure, not one of her proudest moments, but she did what she thought necessary – proving to be in vain when Hook managed to break her spell (figuratively speaking, of course) and gave her a cocky smile, with the words _tread carefully, lass._

So no, Emma probably weren't just frustrated with the fact that he wouldn't give up his coat.

(Not that that would be anything ever being said out loud to another living soul).

(Never).

Now, two days in New York and still not a single step closer to finding what they were looking for, they had decided to go with a last resort and actually commit a felony. Emma didn't want to influence Henry in a negative way, but they really didn't have another choice if they were to ever reunite with everyone in the Enchanted forest.

Besides, it had been Henry's idea. He'd said '_Operation Home needs to be successful'_ and had looked at her with a look so genuine; she didn't have the heart to say no.

So while Emma broke in to Tamara's apartment, Henry and Hook stood outside, ready to alert Emma if the police showed up.

Neither of them had counted on a police officer living next door.

When Emma heard a man call out, "Police! I know you're in here," she was inside the bedroom, out of sight from the cop. She cursed under her breath for being so careless, and quickly hid inside the closet; another arrest on her record would look bad, and she really didn't want to lose Henry when it had barely been a year since he had found her. She prayed the cop would skip the closet, knowing it was pointless.

The closet door had small slots in them, enabling Emma to look out. She saw the cop walk on feather light steps with the gun raised; he saw the bedroom was empty and noticed the closet.

He walked so slowly Emma almost screamed at him, because she couldn't stand it.

He raised his hand just as slowly towards the handle on the door.

He started to turn it around.

Emma closed her eyes, and waited for the inevitable.

"Hi there," she heard Hook's cheerful voice from the hallway; she had never felt so relieved in her entire life.

"Hands up where I can see them!" the police officer shouted at him, his gun still raised. Hook – seeing firsthand what kind of damage a gun could do – did as he was told from what Emma could see. She wanted to open the door and reveal herself, but knew it would be foolish, so she stayed put.

Hook – _no, Killian_ – and the cop moved slightly as they talked, making it impossible for Emma to see anything. She pricked up her ears and tried to breathe as quietly as humanly possible.

"I know you broke in here," the cop said in an unsteady voice.

"Aye," Killian responded, and Emma closed her eyes. Still a bloody idiot.

"That's all you have to say?"

"Well, I did break in here but that was only because I couldn't find the…" Emma could hear Killian snapping his fingers, as if trying to come up with the word he was missing.

"Keys?" the cop offered skeptically, his fear of the man standing in front of him obviously gone.

"Correct," Killian responded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, nice try mister leather-guy," the police officer said, and there was a sound that could only be the sound of handcuffs being opened. Emma groaned inwardly. "You're coming with me, buddy."

There were sounds of footsteps of them walking away, and Killian's voice saying, "Hey, mate, be gentle."

Emma sat still for a couple of minutes more, not daring to move just yet – or maybe not _able_ to move.

Had he just –

Did he –

Why would –

Her mind raced back to the day they had climbed up the beanstalk in the Enchanted forest, when Killian had said to her '_try something new, darling. It's called trust_.' She hadn't dared to, afraid to be so very wrong about him, just like she had been about Neal.

In Neverland, she had trusted him like she hadn't trusted another human being in a very long time. She had found it to be surprisingly easy, coming as natural as breathing to her.

She couldn't name the exact day or time when she had decided it was better to trust him; perhaps it had been when he had come back with his ship, when he had saved David from dying, or maybe she had decided to trust him that day on the beanstalk.

What she did know was that he had done something for her just now she hadn't ever expected anyone to do, let alone a man saying he loved her.

She was floored.

"Mom?" she heard Henry's voice call out to her, and she forced herself to get up.

"In here, kiddo."

"They took Killian!" he said, worry in his voice as soon as he saw Emma in the bedroom.

Him saying Killian instead of Hook had never even been an issue at all; that day when they had fled Neverland on the Jolly Roger, Henry had walked straight up to Killian, given him a bright smile and said, "Thank you, Killian."

The look on Killian's face when he heard his name – _his real name_ – being said out loud could not be described as anything but pure awe at the boy and a smile so big, it didn't leave his face for hours. Emma could feel her heart swell, and grinned like an idiot herself until Regina chuckled at Emma, making Emma turn her expression serious and turned her face towards the sky around them instead.

"Yeah, I know. But I'm going to fix it, don't worry," she told him as she gave him a hug, and felt a lump form in her stomach because of what she knew she had to do.

If it had been anyone but Killian, she probably would have rather run across shattered glass before doing this, but for him, she knew she had to – and strangely, _wanted_ to.

Her fingers were shaking when she dialed the number, and she weren't sure if her voice would carry her, but he picked up on the second ring.

"Patrick Swan."

She cleared her throat so that he would knew someone were on the other line, since she couldn't speak, and then she looked at Henry with a frantic expression in her eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand, making her courage return in an instant.

"Hi Patrick, its Emma," she said, breathing out as she did. She held on to Henry's hand a bit harder as she waited for him to answer; he repaired from the shock in only a few seconds.

"Emma! It's been so long, almost 13 years!" he cried out enthusiastically.

"Y… yes, it has," she responded in a small voice, feeling like that little 3 year old girl that was sent away again. "I need a favor," she continued before she had any more time to think.

"A – a favor? Can we at least meet?" he asked, sounding confused about her request, and Emma cursed under her breath. Of course he would want to meet up with her, chat old memories, talk about how happy he where.

And why wouldn't he be happy? A loving family who wanted him so much they had sent away that strange foster kid they had taken in a couple of years earlier. But he never understood Emma, never really got why she didn't want to talk about his parents. Emma only agreed to see him once in a while – before she went to prison – because he always sounded so sincere when he called her, so she made him believe she thought of him as family.

"Sure," she sighed in response. "It needs to be now, though," she added, thinking about Killian in a police station, probably behind bars. He agreed, and they decided on a quiet place just two blocks away from where Emma and Henry where.

She did not tell Henry any more than he needed to know, and how this was her sort of brother was not something she included in that category; she made him wait in a café and paid one of the waitresses to look after him and make sure he didn't leave.

Emma could not stand still as she waited; always moving an arm, tapping her foot, scratching her head. She wanted it to be over before it had even started, and the only thing that made her not run away faster than the speed of light was the thought of Killian and his blind faith in her that she could do whatever she put her mind to.

"Emma!" she heard a soft voice call, and she turned her face just in time to see Patrick run to her. She was not able to move away when he hugged her, so she just stood there, not hugging back.

"What is it that you need?" he asked her as he stood back from her, obviously not noticing Emma's stiffness.

"I have a…," she started, before changing her mind. "My boyfriend got arrested for something he didn't do and I need him, and if I give you my word of his innocence, can you get him out?" She said it all quickly, the words rushing out of her as if she were afraid he'd walk away, tell her no or just think she was plain stupid. He did neither, but scratched his chin as he looked at her with a small smile.

"Sure," he replied after what felt like an eternity (which meant it probably were a few seconds, top) and Emma felt relief wash over her – her sort of brother really were too naïve for his own good.

"When can you have it done?"

"In just a few minutes, I just need to make a quick call," he told her, and started to move away from her, obviously understanding that Emma was not in the chatting mood. He then quickly invaded her personal space as he gave her a kiss on her forehead; Emma couldn't do much, so she stood as still as she could, hunched shoulders and begging for him to leave.

"Please, let's meet again. Soon," he said after he drew back from her, to which she could only give a small smile and a quiet nod. He then turned around and left and Emma took a deep breath in an attempt to get rid of the big lump in her throat. It increased in size, so she pressed it down and went to get Henry.

"That was quick! Could he help?" he asked Emma when he saw her. She nodded, unsure of how her voice would sound. "Nice. Good think you knew that police commissioner."

He didn't say very much as they walked to the police station, undoubtedly sensing Emma's mood. He did hold her hand in a steady grip, though, which Emma was sure was the only thing that kept her from tears.

When they got to the station, Emma told Henry to wait in a coffee shop across the street and not for even a single second leave that place. He reluctantly agreed.

As she waited, the seconds seemed like minutes and the minutes seemed like hours, until finally, the doors opened up and Killian stood there, still in his ridiculous clothing, screwing his left hand back in its place.

He saw Emma, and when their eyes met – him with a confident grin plastered on his face – she could not hold it in any longer and burst out in violent sobs, right in the middle of a crowded New York street, in broad daylight. Another day, she would probably remember that moment and feel embarrassed, but then and there, she didn't care.

In less than a second, she felt him there putting his arms around her, and she realized he made her feel safe. This realization, however, only made her cry harder. He hugged her, if possible, even more tightly and whispered soothing words into her ear. His right arm moved up and down across her back and her hair, while the other arm was still, but firm, at her waist. She clung to him as hard as she could, grabbing his coat in the hopes of releasing her sadness that way.

After about five minutes, she was able to stop crying and focus on steadying her breathing.

"Love, what - ?" he began, before stopping himself and realizing she should tell him when she wanted to. "What do we do now?" he asked her instead, not releasing her from his tight hold.

"We need to find another way to get that potion now," Emma mumbled against his neck.

Killian laughed a quiet laugh, making Emma look up at him with a question in her eyes. "I swiped it before I alerted that police," he told her, showing her a small vial in his hand, obviously proud of his actions. She looked at him for a second, amazed, before she pulled him in for another hug.

Yes, it was a gamble on who you could and could not trust in life and Emma had made mistakes she would never repeat again; the mistake of trusting a family wanted her until they threw her back to the orphanage like she was yesterday's dinner, and the mistake of trusting Neal loved her enough to overcome any obstacle.

This time, though, it didn't feel like a gamble to trust because she knew in her heart what kind of man Killian was. It felt right.


End file.
